The Scorpion is Dead, Long Live the Scorpion
by Enelson Bridwell
Summary: A.I.M. created a new Scorpion. A stronger Scorpion, that they couldn't control. Now their creation is on the loose, and determined never to fall into their hands again. A young sorceress has been sent to seek out the one person who can teach her what she needs to survive. Then she'll be on her own, and in a world her quiet life in the mid-west never equipped her to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A driving early summer wind made the rain against the side of the Daily Bugle Building sound like the sizzle and pop of a deep fryer.

Jonah's eyes opened again and looked to the cigar in his ashtray. It was still burning so he couldn't have dozed off for more than a minute.

McDonald Gargan was dead. His body had been found stripped of his suit and cybernetic tail in a dumpster in Chicago. The cause of death and other details hadn't been released but Jonah knew the truth. He had murdered Gargan years ago, and not in Chicago. Gargan had died in Manhattan the second that Dr. Stillwell had thrown the switch and set that slow acting poison to work.

The Scorpion had died in Chicago, McDonald Gargan had been murdered right here. And soon Stillwell was dead and how many others after that? All because Jonah had wanted to make a freak to catch a freak.

At least Gargan and Stillwell were at rest and at peace. The Scorpion too. But Jonah had to live with his mistakes.

He picked up the phone and called his chauffeur. It was long past the time he should have gone home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dr. Metner walked into his office suite in the Krupki Building. It was early and soon the sun would be rising over Lake Michigan, so the first thing he did was close his blinds, even before removing his jacket. Then he set down the umbrella he hadn't needed this morning, sat down and logged on to his computer.

Amidst the mundane was the email he was looking for. Their agent in the Coroner's Office reported that MacDonald Gargan had been impaled on a lightning rod and then thrown thirty stories to the street below.

Because their Scorpion was better.

Now if only he knew who their Scorpion was.

He was confident that their Scorpion would reveal himself sooner or later. For right now it could wait. His superiors in A.I.M. were focused as usual on New York and on their moles in Stark Industries. He could afford to wait and see which rock their Scorpion would crawl out from under.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nancy's last summer had been a year ago and she hadn't even known it.

Then she had been living at home in Hudson Wisconsin, scooping ice cream and pumping soft serve at the Big Dipper Ice Cream Parlor. Then she'd had friends.

Now she was in Manhattan with nothing except a mission. Or maybe just an errand. And the closest thing she had to a home was a fleabag hotel, were the room smelled like sweat, urine, and cheap fortified wine.

Last year her Oma's books and papers had seemed like the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her. Now they felt like a cruel trick and something best untouched.

But it was too late. She had more than touched them. She'd learned things she couldn't unlearn. She had rung the bell and Agamotto the All-Seeing had answered her.

The subway train jerked to a stop in Greenwich Village. Now she had another bell to ring. She tried not to think about who might answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Asian man who met her at the door had admitted her into one of the loveliest, though garish, homes she had ever been in, and asked her to wait. The entry rooms made her think of an antique store. The rugs were thick Persians, and everything looked fragile and well polished.

On the coffee table was what looked like a brass oil lamp, or a decorative imitation of one. How old was it? Were its jewels real? Considering were she was she supposed they were.

"Can I help you Ma'am?" A deep distinguished sounding voice broke the silence.

Nancy's attention shot up to the speaker. He was at the bottom of the large ornate staircase but she couldn't imagine how he could have come down the stairs without her seeing or hearing him. His hair, mustache, and goatee, were as black as wet coal, with the exception of grey at his temples. He was handsome, not just handsome, but like a wise and benevolent fairytale king. One who had succeeded at all his adventures and had been living happily ever after for a while now. His age was impossible to say. He certainly wasn't young but he seemed to have the impressive looks of maturity, wisdom, and knowledge, without any signs of physical decline that one would expect to see in a man as wise and all knowing as he looked.

"Dr. Strange?" She immediately felt silly asking. As if this could be anyone except the man Agamotto had sent her to see.

"Yes. It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Muller." He had pronounced her name correctly, as moo-lar, which was encouraging to Nancy who had long had grown accustomed to being addressed as Mull-er, or worse, Mule-er.

He took her hand and shook it and then sat down next to her. "According Wong you've come a long way just to see me." One eyebrow rose. "And at the direction of Agamotto."

"Yes Sir." She smiled nervously. "She's taught me a lot but she said I needed to seek you out... Sir."

Well if that is case I'm glad you came. We have a great deal to discuss.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dennis Draiper dropped his books on his desk. He was both exhausted and too nervous to sleep. He'd heard that amphetamine users would crash and feel the same way. But he hadn't taken anything and so there was nothing he could stop taking, or take, to make the feelings go away.

If anybody would have asked him what was wrong, he would have said he was just having trouble adapting to living in Manhattan, and he expected they would believe him. Whatever. As long as they didn't suspect the truth.

He went to the closet and pulled out the trunk, the one his father had brought back when he came home from Korea. He popped it open with an irrational fear that it would be empty. But maybe he should have wished it would be?

It wasn't of course. The suit was still there, along with his tools. He cleared his desk off. Why had he set his books there when he knew he would just be moving them again a few minutes later? He was about to put them on the bed when he realized that would just amount to making the same mistake twice, since he knew he would have to crash eventually. Wouldn't he?

If he didn't it would drive him crazy. If he wasn't already.

If only a blizzard would roll in and get classes at ESU canceled. He let out a sad chuckle. Fat chance in late August.

He took everything from the trunk and spread it out on the floor. The titanium weave combined with the experimental insulated ballistic cloth should work a Hell of a lot better than the original version's rubber and steel. It would certainly wear better. When he was done the tail would be longer, stronger, and better all around than the one he'd pulled off Gargan.

If everything worked out as planned... if... then at least this would all have been worth it.

Sure it would.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was amateur night at Slagger's but Danny O'Bell, the Master of Ceremonies, who thought he had seen it all, had never seen anything like this girl. Most amateur magic acts were just sad to watch, but there didn't seem to be anything this girl couldn't do. Whatever mirrors, pyrotechnics, and projectors she was using must have cost a fortune, so she certainly wasn't doing this because she needed the money.

Watching her in her black fishnets, thigh-high boots, and suggestively tailored tuxedo shirt and jacket, caused his mind to quickly descend to carnal matters.

No. She had everything she needed alright. For him.

Her time was up and so she ended by removing her top hat, saying her magic words gibberish, and then a fountain of pocket watches flew into the air and then popped softly into glowing stars which then floated downwards and vanished just as they were about to reach the floor.

The audience applauded with as much enthusiasm as Danny had ever seen them give anyone, amateur or pro.

Danny crossed the stage and took the microphone from the stand. "I think we may have just seen history being made here tonight ladies and gentlemen. Let's give another big round of applause to Nancy Muller! I think we're going to be hearing a lot more from her." The audience erupted again as Nancy bowed and left the stage.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Michael "Man Mountain" Marko crushed the filter of his last cigarette in the ashtray. The meeting with the boss had gone longer than expected and he hadn't brought as many smokes with him as he should have. He was tempted to tell his driver to stop someplace for more but he was pretty sure he still had a half a pack back at his place, and the sooner he got there the better. Besides, he could always have his driver go pick a cartoon up after he dropped him off.

Yeah. Maybe the night wasn't completely shot after all. He could have more smokes soon enough and there was also no reason he needed to go home alone.

There were some lady friends he could call but they were probably out all ready. He could have his driver swing up one of the main drags. Most of the working girls knew better than to decline his invitation.

What he really wanted though was some new trim. "Hey Jimmy," he grunted. "Let's take a run down Broadway. I could use some company."

The driver obeyed without question or comment.

Near Union Square Marko saw what he thought was the perfect scratch for his itch. She was a tall leggy brunette in fishnets and a tuxedo-like top; complete a tailed-jacket, bow tie, thigh-high leather boots, cummerbund, and a top hat. Talk about advertising. "Hey, pull up." The car slowed to a stop, and Marko's window rolled down.

"Hey Baby. You need a lift?"

The girl's eyes raised and turned to look at him. "No thank you."

Marko smiled with feigned goodwill. "Ah come on. It's going to be raining pretty hard in a minute. I don't want your nice hat to get ruined, or for you to catch a cold."

"I'll be fine." She smiled back. "I don't live far away. But thank you anyway."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "We could go get something to eat, maybe a nice cup of coffee?"

She began to look a little wary. "Thank you but I already have a boyfriend."

Marko snorted a laugh. "Well you must not know who I am. Or else you'd know I have a lot more to offer a pretty girl like you than your boyfriend."

"Look just please leave me alone." She began walking away quickly.

Marko got out of the car and started after her as one hand went for his money clip. "Hey wait I want to talk to you. Give you my card. I could really help you out. I know lots of people."

She turned to face him. "I said, leave me alone."

He raised his arms as he got closer. "Let's just talk a minute."

She whispered something under her breath and gestured with both hands, tracing an intricate pattern in the air, and then Marko's world exploded with bright light and pain. An instant later he was flying and then felt his back slam into the pavement. He heard the clicking of her high heels as she hurried away.

Had she tased him? He normally laughed Tasers off. But this hurt like Hell. It made a shotgun feel like a peashooter.

Marko stumbled to his feet, fighting to keep his balance. "Nobody does that to me! I don't care how hot a piece of ass they are!" He ripped up a parking meter and threw it at her, almost falling down as he did so.

She spun around and made a quick gesture of refusal. The meter seemed to connect, but instead of killing or even knocking her down, its head exploded and sent change bouncing in all directions. There was a faint glow in front of her.

Marko steadied himself and then charged. His huge arms pumped as he picked up speed.

She stood her ground and spoke more incantations and then a blast of energy shot forth from her hands and dropped Marko in his tracks.

It would be several hours before he awoke in a private hospital whose staff knew better than to ask too many questions.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nancy was trembling as she slammed her door and locked both locks of the Chelsea apartment she had recently moved into.

Her eyes flooded with tears as she flopped down on her bed. Her thoughts raced.

Was that guy dead? Was she wanted for murder?

He was going to rape her, she was sure of it. She had just been protecting herself.

Was that guy really in the Maggia? Of course he was. Who else would act like that and be driven around in an El Dorado? Or maybe he just had money and wanted people to think he was in the Maggia? A real Maggia guy wouldn't be so obvious. Would he?

There was no murder weapon. No gun with her fingerprints.

But even if the police weren't looking for her, what about that guy's friends?

Why hadn't she just changed in the dressing room instead of wearing her costume home?

As the effects of the adrenaline passed she calmed down and then all she knew was that she was tired.

And that she had become far more proficient in the mystical arts than she ever could have imagined when she first got off the bus at Port Authority three months ago.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Brooklyn junkyard Dennis had gone to in order to practice was silent except for the regular creaking of metal and sound of the wind finding paths through the refuse.

His Scorpion suit worked even better than he had expected. He had made it purple with orange uneven stripes running the length. Green might have blended better but he wanted to distance himself from the legacy of Gargan. Besides on the Scorpions tribute album cover he had gotten the idea for that color scheme from, it had looked good. His mask was equipped with a protective visor and left his Lower face exposed. The new tail was longer, fully prehensile, and equipped with a plasma projector, much better and more energy efficient than the one he had reverse engineered it from.

He bent his tail beneath him and then straightened it forcefully and launched himself about seventy five yards in the air, then coiled it like a spring to cushion himself as he landed.

He whipped his tail violently over his head. He had intended to use the sickle-like blade on the edge of the tip to see how many junked auto bodies he could slice with it. But he hadn't rotated the tip right and instead he had smashed the stack of rusted shells with the blunt side. Even so, the pile-driver like blow was quite destructive enough to do the job.

In his irritation he whipped his tail back behind him and shattered the stack of cars there. His mind buzzed and tingled warning him of danger close behind him, and he reflexively leaped clear as the pile toppled down, covering the spot he had been standing in.

He had mastered his inhuman strength, speed, agility, wall crawling, and sixth sense about danger several months ago. Now if only he could master the operation of the cybernetic tail.

He arced the end of his tail over his head and then rapid-fired plasma blasts in a circle all around him. Everywhere discarded autos were blown into molten dust. So was the wall of the office of the yard's owners.

A severed crane boom dropped to the ground.

"Oh shit." Dennis felt a tinge of guilt then made a mental promise to reimburse the salvage company. Maybe a dump would be a better place to practice?

He certainly needed the practice and it might take a while until he was satisfied he was good enough.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was mid-October and Halloween decorations were hung in abundance. It seemed like every store the stocked any variety in their stock at all was selling candy and kids' masks and costumes.

Dennis was sitting on a ledge that offered him both an inconspicuous perch and a good view of the hotel. He thought that staking out a hotel would be a good place to start. So far it had been a disappointment but with rush hour over the traffic had begun to thin out.

Below, a grey Dodge pickup hung the corner and was coming in his direction. It was an older truck and had no Ram logo. As far as Dennis could remember all Dodge pickups had been Ram's for a couple of years now.

It was coming up behind a tourist family, consisting of a man and a woman and three children, all loaded down with luggage. Beneath a tarp in the back of the truck Dennis could make out the shape of two men.

This could be it. He tensed and got ready for action.

As the truck came up behind the people with the luggage, the signal was apparently given, because two men in rubber masks jumped out of the back and knocked down both the man and the woman. They grabbed the two biggest suitcases and threw them in the back of the truck.

The children froze.

The man tried to get to his feet which earned him a kick in the stomach.

One of the two grabbed the woman's purse, and she screamed and struggled to hold on to it until her assailant flashed a knife in her face. Then he yanked her purse away and they both jumped in the back of the truck, which took off.

Dennis almost leapt from the ledge the second the couple had been knocked down, but he caught himself we he realized they weren't close enough yet.

As the truck sped up it got closer. Dennis waited as long as he dared, then used him tail to propel himself out far enough to drop right in the bucket.

Instead he misjudged the distance and managed to land barely on the hood.

The driver, some punk in a hooded sweatshirt, swore as Dennis toppled forward and fell on the hood.

Their eyes locked.

The driver accelerated and hung a hard corner, but Dennis stayed on. His tail slammed down and sliced through the radiator.

Then he punched through the glass and knocked the driver cold.

The car kept rolling and just as Dennis leapt clear it went over the curb and smashed through a deli.

The customers inside dove to the floor as glass shards sprayed inwards.

The two goons in the back of the truck were on their feet and diving out the back.

Dennis's first instinct was to open up with his plasma projector, but that would certainly kill whomever it hit. Instead he gave chase, quickly overcame them and slammed first one and then the other into the pavement.

Neither of the two hoods was moving.. Behind him Dennis could hear screams and sobs coming from the deli.

This hadn't gone right at all.


End file.
